The Spaces In Between
by CelestialHeavens1
Summary: Between 6x25 and 7x01 - Tony's summer in a nutshell. Everyone knew that Tony wasn't in a great place without Ziva. That's what made him so dangerous. Not slash. Part of the Lies We Tell universe.
1. Chapter 1

Tony lay on the ground, facing the sky. The concrete was hot, almost uncomfortably so, but he kept staring upwards. Ziva had knocked him down. She had stuck a gun to his chest for the second time in barely twenty-four hours. It was amazing how having the woman you secretly loved do that to you could keep you down.

It was strange being here. After all this time, after all these years, only the faces inside had changed. He supposed he was lucky in that way. The last thing he needed was someone to recognize him.

"You look like shit," a blunt voice came from over him, a pointed toe nudging at his fractured arm. He winced, but tried not to let how much she was affecting him show. Speak of the devil...

"And you're blocking my sun," he replied, trying for casual, but he was sure he missed the mark. Inside, he was cursing himself for even thinking that it was luck no one recognized him. It had been a jinx. The woman didn't move and he sighed, rolling his head slightly to face her. "What do you want, Lauren?"

"For the moment, I'd settle to know why you're on the ground."

He was silent, unsure of where to start that explanation. When he didn't speak, Eliana Shalit sighed, offering her hand to help him up. Once on his feet, he took her in. In her suit skirt and pumps, she almost resembled Special Agent Lauren Cruz of the FBI and less like the Mossad case officer that she was. He was sure that Agent Rossabi would probably kill him if he found out just why Tony had blackmailed the Agent into making a FBI ID for a supposed civilian or who that civilian actually was.

"You're a mess," the woman said again.

"Yeah, well, I got my ass handed to me."

"As I understand it, you won. Though I have heard rumors of Rivkin's blood alcohol levels being 0.16." Eliana shrugged. "I do not understand why anyone thinks you should not be able to take him. I have seen you fight before. You're scrappy."

He snorted. That was her nice way of saying he mixed combat styles too much.

Everyone was so ready to believe Ducky's tox screening that Rivkin's blood alcohol was twice the legal limit. And why shouldn't they? Tony DiNozzo, class clown and goof off, wouldn't be able to take a Mossad operative, let alone one in Kidon, in a fair fight. He had to have cheated, just something that would make them feel a little better about themselves. It wasn't their agent that had failed, it was the fault of the American cowboy who had gone off the reservation and shot the drunk guy.

Tony should have known it wouldn't have fooled Eliana though. You had to get up pretty early to handle his troublemaker of a cousin.

"Rivkin was a good fighter though," she said as they walked, "I am most impressed you walked away with only a few bruises and scratches. I suppose such a thing was to be expected, seeing as you were Tamir Lavin's protégé."

He went still hearing his uncle's name again. For years, he had tried to avoid any mention of him. A decade after his aunt and uncle's deaths, he was still trying to avoid talking about it.

"They don't know," he said softly. "The ones that matter know better than to believe it."

She smiled. "Then I suppose I am honored that you count me among those that matter to you."

He smiled back, though it felt like a grimace. "You took care of Navon. You were his support when he needed it the most. That makes you family, Eliana, _mishpacha_."

The young officer gave him a very pleased look. She reached a hand out and squeezed the arm that wasn't in a sling.

" _Tishmor al azmeha,_ " she said, repeating his words to Navon the last time he had seen his cousin before the younger man had been arrested. " _Shalom_ , Anthony."

She leaned in and peaked at his cheek before she disappeared back into the building, while he stood out there alone.

* * *

Mishpacha - family.

Tishmor al azmeha - keep well, take care of yourself, keep safe (lit. could be "guard yourself")

Shalom - Peace

Aliyah aired a few months before White Collar started. In Life and Lies, I have Special Agent Lauren Cruz of the FBI being Neal's Mossad handler since she showed up and knew everything about him before she disappeared abruptly. In that universe, Neal and Vincent Rossabi from Covert Affairs are friends. I figure Tony could have easily used that as blackmail material to get a badge for Lauren. And since foreign agencies aren't supposed to work on US soil, I figure she probably didn't go through proper channels to get a government issued ID.

I am endgame Tony/Ziva. Don't get mad because these pieces aren't, because I feel like NCIS is first a family with a lot of moving components that have to line up before Tony and Ziva could wind up together in this universe. And personally, I am of the camp that believes Ziva made it out alive and Tony snuck off to go live their lives together with Tali.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony flipped the phone opened and shut a half dozen times before he dialed the familiar number. It rang for several moments before the line clicked on.

"Simon Fischer," an accented voice greeted him on the other end.

 _"Privet, brat. Kak dela?"_ He said quietly, even though he was alone in the locked bathroom.

Ever since they met, every conversation he had with Simon started in Russian, assuming they were both safe. It was a code of sorts between them. Going off script meant they couldn't talk, that things were bad, that they needed help. They had only needed to use it a few times. The end results from those conversations had not been pleasant.

 _"Oltíchno, kak u tebyá?"_ the Russian asked, keeping to the usual lines. Safe to talk at both ends then, Tony felt alright with changing his usual response.

 _"Plokho."_ Tony fell silent and Simon stayed quiet too.

"Where are you?" The other man asked in desperate English, dropping the pretenses of this being an informal conversation between two old friends.

"I just got back from Tel Aviv."

"Not at-"

"No," Tony cut him off before Simon could finish that sentence in any number of ways. "Mossad. I killed one of their agents."

Simon was silent for a moment. "Did Deputy Director Lavin handle it or do you need an extraction from your situation? I could probably pull together something quickly."

"Director David is the one handling things, but they let me go back to America." Tony wanted to run a hand through his hair, but the fractured radial didn't agree. "I need to get away. Anywhere."

"Alright. I will have a plane waiting."

"I have one arm."

Simon gave a half chuckle. "Not an issue. Fact finding. Nothing dangerous." Tony wanted to smile at that, but couldn't find the strength. " _Cho tam?"_

"No, but I will be." He sighed. "Talk to you soon."

He clicked the phone off and stepped out of the restroom as Gibbs rounded the corner. Vance wasn't far behind him and neither man had a happy expression on their faces.

* * *

"Administrative leave?" Tony asked in disbelief. What were the chances that he was planning on requesting time off and the director benched him instead.

"I'm not any happier about it than you are, DiNozzo."

"It was self defense."

"Doesn't mean Vance was happy about it. Use the time to rest up. Heal." Somehow, it felt like Gibbs meant more than just his arm. The betrayal in Ziva's eyes, how sure she had been that he had just killed her boyfriend out of jealousy. She had no idea what he was capable of. She had never known him at all.

His words to Navon all these years later stood true. He hated her. He hated her for making him feel this way, so filled with self doubt. He hated that she had acted so concerned about the stuff with Jeanne, that she made him think she might have returned his feelings, but she turned around and so easily fell for Rivkin. Tony had to work for the friendship he thought he had shared with his partner. Ziva threw it away like it meant nothing.

"It's what has to be done, DiNozzo," Vance said in that condescending way of his. "Either NCIS punishes you or we hand you over to Mossad. I'll make arrangements for your new assignment after your leave is up."

With a disgusted sigh, he pulled his gun and badge from the drawer and handed them to Gibbs. McGee let out a startled yelp as Tony slammed the drawer harder than strictly necessary.

"Don't bother. I quit."

With that, he stormed to the elevator, leaving the three stunned into silence.

* * *

Spy work was a lot like sitting in a doctor's waiting room. You sit around, read some magazines, and every so often, some comes along that you have to snap a photo of. On that particular day, Tony was watching a building that both Simon and Jai had found links back to the terrorist money laundering thief ring that they had spend the better part of the last nearly twenty years tracking.

Tony and Simon's friendship had been founded on the two of the, tracking the missing military shipments and money through the former Eastern Bloc counties, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin style. Not just U.S. military shipments either. As the Soviet Union broke up, they noticed some discrepancies. There were paintings and cultural pieces that disappeared from the different regions.

The insurance firm he had been watching was suspected to be a part of it. A global insurance company, their agents were in a perfect position to travel around the world to help facilitate such transfers and disappearances.

No one really blinked twice at a tourist with a broken arm. He had told the cafe owner that he was researching for a book. And maybe one day he would write a book, Ian Fleming style. Maybe if he lived long enough for some of his ops to be declassified.

"Can I get you another coffee, sir?" the young waitress who had been helping him for the whole day asked.

"Please."

The girl gave him a bright grin and headed back inside.

"'Of all the gin joints in all the world, he had to walk into mine,'" Tony quoted as the other man sat down at the table.

"I was in town and thought I'd stop by," Eyal answered glibly. "You don't write, you don't call, you don't answer a phone. I got worried."

"I'm fine." His cousin glanced at his arm.

"Eliana said you killed Michael Rivkin. And then you disappeared off the grid. What was I to think? What about Abba or Ima?"

"You've talked to your mother?" Tony asked in surprised, even as the other man scoffed.

"You talked to Eliana while you were in Israel, but you avoided your family." The Mossad officer sighed. "What happened? The report said Rivkin was drunk, but I know you better than that. If he had been drunk, you would not have had to shoot him." He cocked his head. "Why the cover up?"

"My country isn't like yours, Eyal. We don't go around announcing when we work somewhere too secret. Take Ziva David. She flaunted that she was Mossad like it was an award. It seemed like she worked it into every conversation."

"You're angry at her," his cousin observed. "I heard she stayed behind, that she offered your Agent Gibbs an ultimatum. Her or you."

Tony closed his eyes and exhaled. He hadn't known that. Gibbs hadn't said anything.

"But you still care for her and that makes you angry at yourself as well. You're in love with her."

That got his eyes opened, glaring at the Israeli. "I am _not_ in love with her."

"'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'"

"I will make you regret it if you don't stop. Just because I'm in a sling does not mean anything, Eyal," he hissed through clenched teeth.

The teasing light faded from his cousin's eyes, leaving only solemnness in its wake.

"I'm just worried about you. We don't want to lose you again. We lost Chana and we lost Dodh and Doda. How could we live if we lost you too? Have you thought about that, Tony?"

He hadn't. He had been trying to avoid doing as much of that as possible.

Eyal picked up the camera and took a few shots of the building, of the man passing off a briefcase to a woman. "It has a great architectural structure. Strong lines. Very clean."

"Since when are you such an architecture aficionado?"

"Around the time you became a writer." Eyal smiled, laying the camera back down on the table. His hand came to rest on Tony's uninsured shoulder and he squeezed. Hand on his shoulder, gave a squeeze, "Take care of yourself. Or I will send Ima after you."

* * *

 **Russian**

Privet _(_ Приве́т.) - Hi. / Hello.

Brat _-_ brother - when a man calls his friend brother _,_ implication is that the relationship between them is closer than simple friendship.

Kak dela? (Как дела́?) - How are you? or How are you doing? (Informal to a friend)

Oltíchno, kak u tebyá? (Отли́чно, как у тебя́?) - Excellent, how are you?

Plokho. (Плохо). Bad.

Cho tam? - You alright? (Slang)

 **Hebrew**

Abba - father

Ima - mom

Dodh and Doda - uncle and aunt respectively.

"Covert intelligence involves a lot of waiting around. Any meeting, any appointment, you have to show up early, make sure you are not followed; make sure the area is secured; check out the other guy's advance team and see how well he is prepared. It's good trade craft but it's like hanging out in your dentist's reception area 24 hours a day. You read magazines, sip coffee, and every once in a while someone tries to kill you." Michael Westen, Burn Notice 1x01


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs found him in Bogota.

To be fair, Tony hadn't exactly been subtle. He had gone there to cover up the fact that he had been elsewhere, so it wasn't a surprise when Gibbs walked into the bar.

"This wasn't what I meant when I said relax." Tony ignored him, hoping if he did, he would go away. While he hadn't been subtle, he hadn't wanted anyone to come after him. It was bad enough Eyal had come to check on him. "Have you really been sitting here drinking for the last two weeks?"

"I'm not coming back," Tony finally said.

"Then why are you still paying the lease on your apartment?" He glared at the older man. "Come on, let's go."

Gibbs stood, but Tony kept on drinking. The older man put down money on the bar and waved to the bartender.

"Cut him off."

With that, the man walked out the front doors. Incredible, Tony wanted to scoff. It was like he thought Tony was a dog, who would come and fetch and sit just because Gibbs said so.

But Tony couldn't go. Not yet. Calder Michaels, the local CIA station chief, hadn't come into the bar in the three days Tony had been there, even though that was supposedly the man's favorite lunch spot. He couldn't leave before he passed along the information about the terrorist woman working for the insurance company that had traveled from South Africa to Colombia. He wasn't about to go an try to deal with her while Gibbs was there.

But Gibbs wasn't leaving. He was standing at the front door expectantly and Tony didn't really want to explain why he was meeting with the CIA to Gibbs. Clenching his fist, he stood up and followed the older man.

"Car keys?"

"Been walking." Gibbs raised his brow, but Tony started walking and Gibbs followed.

The hotel he had been staying at couldn't really be classified as such. It was more like a hostel, but since he hadn't brought much, Tony hadn't cared. People asked less questions about who you were and where you were from and pesky little things like credit cards. He had known what he was doing when he paid for food with his credit card, knowing McGee would be tracking it. He just hadn't expected Gibbs to get there before he had caught up with Calder.

He could have gone to the CIA station house, but due to a recent unrelated attack, they had moved it and he couldn't get a single one of those bureaucrats at Langley to just give him a location.

"You look like crap, DiNozzo."

"Yeah. Feel like it too."

"Why Colombia?"

"Better question, boss. Why not Colombia?" Tony sat down on his bed, lounging against the wall with his free hand behind his head.

"You're up to something."

Tony shrugged, not answering either way. Eventually, Gibbs stopped staring and turned to look at the rest of the room. There wasn't much to see. He was sharing with two college kids who were backpacking through South America. None of them had brought a lot.

"McGee booked us on a flight back for this afternoon." Gibbs passed him a ticket. "I'll meet you at the airport."

With that, the man strode from the room and Tony let out a breath.

* * *

Tony found himself back at the same bar again. To his great relief, so was Calder Michaels.

He took a seat right next to the man, though the bar wasn't exactly full. The other man glanced at him uncomfortably, but Tony ordered another drink and got comfortable.

It took a full five minutes before the other man got annoyed.

"Is there something I can help you with?" The man asked, gun pressed discreetly into Tony's side.

"Just relax, Calder."

"How can I? Felipe said you've been in the last three days looking for me."

"I'm a friend of Jai Wilcox's," Tony replied. If there was one name everyone knew, it was the Director's son. "I just wanted to bring you your birthday gift in person. It didn't travel well." He kept his good hand on the bar. The last thing he wanted to do was have the man shoot him over a misunderstanding. "It's in my right pocket."

Calder reach down, pulling out the thumb drive keychain. "Interesting present."

"The woman in the photos is a person of interest," he said calmly. "We're not sure who she works for, but we know who she's been selling too."

"No one good clearly." Calder tucked the drive away. "Why aren't you handling it?" Tony snorted, glancing at his arm. "Ah. I thought that was just for show."

"I wish." Calder chuckled and lowered the gun. "I would stay and chat, but I have a plane to catch."

"Heading back to D.C. then? I don't envy you. Traffic's a killer."

Tony laughed. "Nice meeting you. Hope we don't do this again soon."

With that, he got up and walked away.

* * *

Gibbs actually managed to look halfway surprised when Tony appeared at the gate for their flight. The other man was probably only half expecting him to show, which considering he had quit NCIS, Tony had only half planned on showing back up.

"Cutting it close."

"I thought being here was an order."

"It was. I didn't expect you to follow it."

Tony sat down beside him, dropping his bag on the ground. "I guess I'm just tired of running. But I can't exactly go back to NCIS. I quit, remember?"

Gibbs was giving him that look that said he was being slow on the uptake. "Did you?"

"Yes, in front of Vance, unless you're going to tell me he had temporary amnesia."

"No, but he was persuaded. He understood that the last month has been trying." Tony stared at him. There was no way Gibbs wasn't making that up. Vance, understanding? It was almost laughable. "If you want to come back, there's a spot for you."

He closed his eyes, remembering Eyal's words about Ziva's ultimatum to Gibbs. Gibbs had picked him over the Mossad assassin. That had to mean he added some value to the team, despite McGee and Ziva's complaints.

"I want to come back."

Gibbs had a hint of a smile on his face. His hand came up and Tony tensed in preparation for the head slap, but instead the older man ran a hand over the back of Tony's head. It was as close to affection as they got between the two of them.

As quickly as the moment had begun, Gibbs stood and grabbed his bag.

"What are you waiting for, DiNozzo? Let's go home."

Grinning, Tony stood, shuffled his duffel onto his good shoulder, and scrambled after the man. "On your six, boss."

The End.

* * *

Yes, Tony did indeed stiff Calder for the bill. I figure that is exactly the kind of thing Tony would have done, especially if somebody held a gun on him. Calder Michaels was said in Season 4 of Covert Affairs to be the CIA's Colombian station chief, before he came back to be the Director of the DPD.


End file.
